Overlooked Gratitude
by Eldhoron
Summary: Sometimes it takes someone on the outside to show you what you are grateful for. Fingon is shown a brief lesson in thankfulness by Maedhros. A short Thanksgiving one-shot.


**Happy Thanksgiving everyone. This was just a small one-shot that I came up with for Thanksgiving. :P**

Fingon swept into the warmly lit stone feasting chamber within Barad Eithel. Today was a feast of thanks. It had been established in memory of the Noldor's successful crossing of the Helcaraxë. Presently, the feast was just beginning in Barad Eithel. Fingon was pleasantly struck with the magnificence of his own halls.

The towering ceilings were decorated with exquisitely crafted chandeliers that gave off a strong golden hue. The smooth floor reflected the painted arches and the light like still water. The sounds of many elves talking amongst each other and making merry filled the echoing hall. He strode further into the room, black shiny leather boots clicking on the polished floor. The announcer at the door bellowed Fingon's name and many titles as the myriad guests suddenly turned to face their king. Fingon gave them all his best most dashing smile then moved on down toward the crowd. He was looking for one particular ellon.

The people filling the room were all nobles from many differing houses and realms. Their brightly coloured regalia provided another mode for sensory indulgence. The High King weaved in and out among the plethora of people, occasionally stopping briefly to give salutations to one or another elf he knew as he searched. Finally, the dark-haired king spotted the one he wished to see.

Maedhros grinned as he saw Fingon approaching. The copper-haired ellon had been waiting for Fingon to finally show up and now he was here. Maedhros brushed back his cloak and moved to give the High King a bow of respect. Maedhros' movements were stalled, however, when Fingon opened his arms and took Maedhros' shoulders in a firm grasp. Fingon pulled the ellon into a warm embrace. "It is good to see you, Maedhros," Fingon whispered into the other's pointed ear.

Maedhros relaxed in the arms of Fingon, wrapping his own forearms around the ellon's waist. "It is good to see you as well, Fin. It has been too long."

This time Fingon grinned. He planted a soft kiss on Maedhros' cheek as he broke the embrace. The High King ran his eyes down Maedhros' lean form. The one-handed elf was dressed in a dark crimson tunic embroidered with a glittering silver scheme that played across the rich fabric. The sable trousers were plain but encompassed by a braided silver belt of the highest quality. Extensively polished black leather boots that resembled Fingon's nearly identically rounded out the outfit.

Fingon nodded approvingly. "You dressed well. You almost look as nice as my good self."

The posh ellon straightened slightly, trying to hide the smug smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Correction. I look better than you. I always dress nicer than you."

"Your pride will be your downfall," Fingon pronounced. While he spoke, Fingon motioned for Maedhros to follow him. The two made their way towards the bar.

Maedhros gave a snort as he leaned over the counter. He ordered a mild drink then turned to raise a perfectly shaped eyebrow at Fingon. "This is coming from the elf who throws a feast simply to show his powerful magnificence."

Fingon tutted in feigned hurt. "I would never…"

Maedhros deftly interrupted, "I know you hate this celebration."

The words carried dark undertones and many bad memories. Fingon continued to show nonchalance even as the atmosphere between the ellyn changed into something slightly more nostalgic. Fingon reminded himself that Maedhros relied on dark humour to keep himself mentally intact and replied with that knowledge. "I do not _hate_ it. I strongly dislike it. That's all to be certain. What did the Helcaraxë give us anyways? Naught but frozen fingers and elf-pops."

Maedhros chuckled. "Elf-pops… that is a good one. You are right on one thing. But..." Maedhros fixed his sparkling blue-green eyes onto Fingon's and wagged a finger. "You are supposed to be _grateful_ that you were not one of those unhappy elf-pops, Fin."

Fingon rolled his eyes then dipped his head in defeat as Maedhros continued, "Not to mention that even if hatred and strong dislike were different, it does not change the reasons why you hold this feast every year." The copper-haired ellon took a sip of the golden liquor that had found its way into his glass.

"Fine. You are right. Are you happy?"

Maedhros knew he could very well get a smack for his next words but said them nonetheless. He could see that he was pushing the High King thin. "I am very _grateful_ that you agree. I know I am right too."

The strike never came but a harsh glare cut through the son of Feanor. "Shut up," Fingon snapped. The dark-haired ellon crossed his arms then drew his gaze to take in the impressive chamber. He listened to the mulling conversation that filled the huge room and echoed off the grand ceilings. "But it is working."

Maedhros raised his glass. "Here is to your never-ending pride and the glory of your tower."

Fingon scowled. "Now you are just being degrading."

"You know I would never degrade you, Fin," Maedhros said. "Still, here is a question: What are you grateful for, if not for being saved from an eternity as an elf-pop?"

The question stood still in the air for a moment as Fingon contemplated the answer. He really didn't know what he was really grateful for. The elf had never thought about it to be honest. He had everything. He was the High King of the Noldor… Was he grateful for that? This was all he had ever known so could he be thankful for it? The answer was elusive. Finally, he relented to giving what he felt was a poor answer. "I suppose I am grateful for everything."

Maedhros grunted. "Everything. Me too, I suppose." His brow furrowed suddenly. "When does the eating start anyways?"

Fingon was reminded of the time and turned his eyes to the large pendulum clock standing against the panelled wall across the large room. "I should probably start it now." He faced the crowd and gave a sharp clap of his hands.

The whole assembly silenced and turned to face the High King.

The king, however, was suddenly transfixed by the sight of his own hands. A realisation came to the ellon while his eyes travelled down beautifully sculpted fingers to time-etched palms. Memories of heat, cold, pain, and sweet touches flitted through his mind. The feeling of a leather wrapped hilt pressing into his palms solidified itself into his consciousness. Fingon could feel Maedhros' eyes drilling deeply into his back. He could feel the crowd in front of him, staring at him in anticipation.

Finally, the High King collected himself. He projected out to the crowds. "Today we celebrate our crossing over of the Helcaraxë. Never was a feat accomplished nor shall another like it be. May our deeds last in song ever long."

Fingon raised his crystal tumbler into the air. The assembly mirrored his movements and spoke the words "ever long" as one voice. Fingon took his drink. "Now, let us find seat and enjoy a meal in thanks."

With that, the gathering dispersed, making their way to the banquet table. Fingon waited for Maedhros to down his own drink.

"Are you ready to feast in thankfulness now?" Maedhros asked looking right through the High King.

Fingon glanced down at his hands. "I couldn't be more grateful."

Maedhros flashed a brilliant grin. "It feels good to be the only one that can humble the great High King of the Noldor."

"Alright let's eat before you get any more ideas," Fingon said as he took Maedhros' arm to lead the ellon to the feast.


End file.
